


Valentine's Day

by accio_hogwarts_a_history



Category: Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: M/M, albus is an angsty bean, but an angsty bean in love, james just wants everyone to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 11:24:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9818201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/accio_hogwarts_a_history/pseuds/accio_hogwarts_a_history
Summary: It’s Valentine’s Day in Albus and Scorpius’s fifth year. Scorpius is determined, as always, to get his date with Rose, and Albus is trying to work out how to confess his true feelings to Scorpius.Written for theHPCC Valentine





	

“No.”

“Albus.”

“No.”

“Al-buuus.”

“ _No_.”

“ALBUS!”

“Scorpius, let me _sleep!”_

Albus groaned dramatically and stuffed his face into his pillow to hide his grin. He and Scorpius had spent an increasing number of their mornings playing these theatrical wake-up games. And while early rising wasn’t one of Albus’s favorite activities, the playful teasing, tickling, and pillow fights with Scorpius that accompanied it certainly were. Hopefully it would never dawn on Scorpius that doing those things only _encouraged_  Albus to keep up his grumpy act in the mornings, or Scorpius might retire the routine.  

Scorpius shook him lightly. Albus was acutely aware of _exactly_ where each one of his fingertips was delicately pressing into his shoulder blades. He was always highly in tune to Scorpius’s movements. It was like his sixth sense – his _Scorpius Sense_.

After an unsuccessful minute Scorpius gave up on this tactic, but Albus wasn’t done playing: he grumbled into his pillow and pulled his sheets up over his head.

“We’re going to be late,” whined Scorpius. 

Albus reemerged in a huff and checked the clock on his bedside table. “No we aren’t.”

“We’re going to be late...for being early to breakfast?” Scorpius tried again.

“And I take no issue with that.” Albus sunk back down into his warm imprint.

“It’s morning!” he sang. “The sun is rising, the birds are singing, doesn’t that make you want to be awake?” 

“Not particularly. Plus you’re full of it,” Albus added with a laugh. “We’re in the dungeons, under the lake, in _February_ \- and you’re telling me I need to get up or I’ll miss the sunrise and birds?”

“Er, yes?” Scorpius said uncertainly. “So...what do you say?”

“Nope.” He smiled and snuggled happily into his pillow, fully aware that his answer wouldn’t satisfy Scorpius. He tensed and squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the impending blow of a pillow.

“Then you leave me no choice.” Scorpius’s creaking footsteps came to a halt at the foot of the bed. The silky emerald sheets slid down Albus’s chest a centimeter.

“You really don’t want to do that,” Albus warned.  

“Oh, yes I do,” said Scorpius. He locked his light eyes with Albus’s and yanked the covers further.

“Scorpius...I’m warning you. Do _not_.” Albus tried his best to arrange his face to look properly irritated. In all honesty, he was perfectly content to let Scorpius strip him of his sheets. The wicked grin Scorpius had adopted (the one that was currently making Albus’s heart trip over itself) was definitely worth trading his warmth to see.

“Albus Severus Potter,” Scorpius whispered in a low voice (Albus bit the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning), “stop being naughty and get up _right now_... or face the consequences.”

Albus’s blinked. He was perfectly used to a playful Scorpius. That he could handle. He’d laugh it off, just like he usually did. But was Scorpius being _flirty_? With him, Albus? He felt his ears burn. No. _No_. He wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t. Why would he do that? He was only seeing what he wanted to see. Scorpius wasn’t acting differently. This was Silly Scorpius, same as usual. But if that were true – why was Albus still frozen without a response? 

 _Say something!_ Twice he opened his mouth to speak, hesitated, and closed it again. Words. He needed words. Any words would do.

“What if I’m naked?” Albus blurted out. He groaned at himself. Not _those_ words!Literally anything but those words! What would he say something like that?!

Scorpius shrugged and quirked his eyebrow. “What if?” he challenged.

Albus stared at him, open-mouthed. What on _earth_ was that supposed to mean? He had a sudden and overwhelming desire to crack the glass behind him and drown in lake water.   

“Oh. Well - er - I’m not,” he said lamely. 

Scorpius’s eyes darted to the covers and back to Albus. There was that wicked grin again. He made a grab for the sheets right as Albus tightened his grip. For a moment they both held tight to their respective ends, the covers suspended in tension. Albus was laughing at Scorpius, whose eyes had squeezed shut in determination. Then suddenly he released his grip and watched Scorpius tumble back in surprise. He landed in a heap of green on the floor. 

They both burst into hysterical laughter. Albus flopped back, spread-eagle, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He felt lighter than light. 

“W-why?” Scorpius finally gasped from the floor. “Why would you-”

“Your face!” was all Albus could manage. It wasn’t really _that_ funny, but then that was the effect Scorpius had: everything seemed a little happier and funnier and lighter with him. After Albus’s giggles had subsided, he rolled out of bed to hoist Scorpius to his feet. “Mark this down as another victory. Well done.”

“I thank you. The Waking of Albus Potter is both an art and a science. One I’m sure to perfect after a lifetime of trials.”

Albus determinedly ignored the implication that Scorpius would be waking him for the rest of his life. “Is it really such a crime to have a bit of a lie in?” he asked.

“I think that’s only half your motivation. Really, you get enjoyment out of being uncooperative.”

Albus grinned to himself. “ _Me?”_ he asked, feigning incredulity. He brought a shocked hand to his chest. 

“Uncooperative. Resistant. Stubborn. Yep, Albus ‘I-like-to-frustrate-Scorpius-in-every-way-imaginable’ Potter, I see right through you. I’m sure if I spent my mornings trying to make you stay in bed, you’d rise at dawn.”

Albus shrugged, unapologetically. “Maybe give that a try then.”

“We’ll see.” 

They both finished dressing and grabbed their bags. Scorpius looked him over once and reached for his tie. He adjusted it and gave Albus’s chest a light tap. “Perfect. Ready?”

His stomach did a backflip. “Perfect.” _Not_ you, _you absolute fantasist_.  _He meant your tie._ Still, he couldn’t prevent a small smile from tugging at his lips.

“Yep.”

“Great!” Scorpius grabbed him by the arm, dragging him out of the dorm and across the common room. They raced through their labyrinth of dungeons and up to the Great Hall, coming to a dead stop in the enormous doorway.

“Whoa.”

Albus’s heart was hammering. _From adrenaline,_  he told himself, _you practically sprinted here_. He knew it had very little to do with adrenaline, though. It had a _lot_ more to do with the fact that his arm was still linked through Scorpius’s and they were standing together in the entrance to a hall decorated magnificently in red and pink for Valentine’s Day – the moment was simply too perfect. A thousand shimmery red heart-shaped bubbles floated lazily through the thin swirl of clouds in the Enchanted Ceiling. Occasionally they would collide and, with a faint ‘pop!’, lightly rain rose petals and a smattering of glitter down on the unsuspecting students. Several annoyed third year Hufflepuffs were currently dusting off their shoulders, and Rose was muttering to herself and yanking petals from her hair.

Albus’s stomach sank. _Rose_. Of course. No wonder Scorpius had wanted to get to breakfast early: he was going to ask her out again. The decor suddenly seemed a bit tasteless. 

They found their seats at the Slytherin table. Albus sighed as Scorpius drew a quill from his bag.   _Here we go_ , he thought. Scorpius’s relentless obsession with Rose was never going to fade. It made his stomach twist unpleasantly every time Scorpius mentioned her name (which happened far more often than Albus would have liked). Although, he could at least rest assured that Rose would never return his feelings. In that light, all this absurd crush did was keep Scorpius from pursuing other girls who might actually consider saying yes to him. So in the end, it was probably to Albus’s benefit. 

“Let’s see,” he tapped his quill thoughtfully against his temple, “ _Roses are red, violets are blue-”_

“ _Won’t you let me go out with you?”_ Albus dryly finished for him. 

“Ooo, nice!”

“I was kidding.”

“Right, yes. Same,” he said sheepishly. He stared up at the glittery ceiling for a moment. “Okay, what about ‘ _Roses are red, I think you’re divine, Rose Granger-Weasley, be my Valentine’?”_ He looked to Albus with wide eyes _._

Albus wasn’t sure what to tell him. No one would ever win _him_ over with a cheesy poem like that. _Well, unless they were Scorpius_ , he reminded himself. He suddenly wondered just how many other exceptions he had for Scorpius. 

“It’s good. It’s, er, from the heart?”

“Yep.” He copied the poem onto a frilly, heart-shaped card in his most careful handwriting; Albus always admired the way he curled the tails of his y’s. “Now,” he said, “time to find me a Rose!” He leapt up and looked at Albus expectantly. “Wish me luck?”

“Oh, right. Good luck!” he said, hoping his tone conveyed more sincerity than he felt.

Scorpius bounded off for the Gryffindor table. Albus’s eyes followed him until he could hardly see his white-blond head amid the sea of students. He only wished Rose would curb her usual bite and let him down with a bit of grace this time.

He stabbed moodily at the sausage on his plate. The thought that had been nagging him all week in the lead up to Valentine’s Day drew attention to itself yet again:  _tell him_ , he urged himself; _you have_ got _to talk to him about it_.

Well that was ridiculous. What, would he scrawl some sappy love poem on a card and offer him it? All in the hopes that Scorpius might make heart eyes back at him and confess that he felt exactly the same? Tell him that the girl he’d been trying to get the attention of for nearly _five_ _years_ actually meant nothing to him? No. Albus was a realist and he could imagine how that would end.

Honestly, Scorpius would probably be concerned for his mental health. Hadn’t he made it quite clear he fancied Rose and no one but Rose? Or maybe Scorpius would tell him that ‘thanks, he appreciated it,’ but his feelings simply weren’t returned. Albus would look like an _idiot_. An idiot who simply couldn't keep his big mouth shut.

 _Or_ would he freak out on him? Would he get uncomfortable and ask Albus to keep his distance? He couldn’t survive Hogwarts without Scorpius; that was a fact. He needed him: sitting by his side at breakfast, laughing with him in Charms, ranting with him late at night in the common room. He couldn’t possibly risk losing that.

 _But maybe_ , thought the destructive, fantasizing part of his brain, _he’d say yes. Maybe he’s as unsure about how you feel as you are about how he feels. Maybe he’d say he always felt that way too and didn’t know how to tell you_. _Maybe he’d even kiss you_.

Albus’s heart fluttered again as he cast his mind back to a fraction of an hour earlier when he’d been lying in bed and Scorpius had gotten so- so  _flirty._ Or had he simply imagined that? No, something had definitely been different.

He needed to do it; he _had_ to say something. He couldn’t keep feeling like this and pretending everything was fine. He couldn’t let his mind continue slipping off into fantasies whenever he was with Scorpius. It wasn’t fair – to either of them.

Besides, even if he confessed and Scorpius _did_ look at him like he’d gone mad, he could easily play it off as a joke. Yes! A Valentine’s Day joke! There – now he had no reason not to try. And surely asking someone out who’d just been rejected was a nice way to cheer them up.

He was going to do this. All he needed to do now was find the words. 

He looked up right as Scorpius rounded the corner of the Slytherin table. His heart hammered furiously and his palms were starting to sweat. He closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. It was now or never. 

 _Uh-oh_ , he thought as Scorpius drew closer, _he doesn’t look very good_. Scorpius was paler than usual and his eyes were wide. Albus clenched his jaw and mentally cursed Rose for being so cruel. Couldn’t she have a little mercy? 

He took a deep breath. “So,” he said, trying to sound as though the answer wouldn’t be obvious to anyone simply by the look on Scorpius’s face, “What’d she say?”

“She said yes.”

“Sorry, maybe next ti--” It was like ice water pouring over him. The words sunk in slowly, dragging his heart to a stop. 

“What?” 

“She - Rose said yes. Yes, she’ll be my Valentine. Yes, she’ll go on a date with me tonight.” 

“What?” he asked again, stupidly. 

“She – said – yes.” Scorpius looked like he was saying it more to himself than Albus this time. Like he couldn’t believe it either. He probably _couldn’t_ believe it either. Why would Rose – Rose who had always been so consistently, unfailingly uninterested – say yes now? Was it a prank? Was she simply being even more cruel than usual? Anger flared through him. His fingernails pierced his palm to the point of pain.

“ _Why?”_ he demanded. “No, no, no, I don’t mean it like that,” he rushed to explain as Scorpius frowned. “I just mean...why _now?_ What’s changed?”

“I don’t know. And I know what you’re thinking – but I don't think it’s a prank. I- er- I actually asked her to make sure. She seemed quite genuine, which was really off-putting, to be honest. I’m still trying to process it all.”

Albus nodded. “Where?” he asked, when the question finally occurred to him. “Where are you taking her?”

“No idea. I never thought I’d get this far so I had nothing planned. She said she’d decide then, and to meet her in the Entrance Hall at eight,” he explained. 

Albus didn’t ask any more questions for the rest of breakfast. He didn’t want to know more. He didn’t want to hear what Scorpius was planning to wear or how excited he was to finally be going on his dream date. He didn’t care!

The rest of Albus’s day served no purpose other than to prove him an utter liar. He did care. _Painfully_  so. It was the only thing he could think about. Scenario after scenario of the date played through his mind mercilessly in class. Each one drew him deeper into an increasingly foul mood. Scorpius was equally absorbed in his own head and hardly took notice.

At dinner, Scorpius barely ate anything before popping off to the dormitory to get ready. And Albus was so deeply buried in his own miserable thoughts that he didn’t even notice James’s presence until he spoke. 

“Al! Hey! Just the person I was looking for,” he greeted.

“Not in the mood, James.”

“Coming to the Valentine’s Day party in Gryffindor Tower tonight, yeah?” he asked, ignoring Albus’s less-than-encouraging reply. 

Albus had no idea what to even say to this. “Is that a joke? What would _possibly_ make you think I’d-”

“Oh _c’mon_ , it’ll be fun! There’ll be loads of people, and we’ve managed to smuggle in _quite_ an assortment of drinks,” he added proudly.

“Pass.”

“Now, Al. Please don’t be that way.”

Albus squinted at him. “Did Mum put you up to this?”

“Of course not,” he said with a wave of his hand, “this is an honest invitation from one Potter brother to another.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” said Albus, crossing his arms. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Al, come _on,”_ he said unaffected by Albus’s lack of enthusiasm, “It would mean so much to me if you came. The whole school is going to be there! Well, okay, not the _whole_  school,” he conceded, “but all of the quality people.”

A sudden realization dawned on him. “You just want me to come so I can watch Lily for you, don’t you?”

“Al, _no_. Definitely not,” he said with an emphatic shake of his head. He paused. “So...will you do it?” he asked, hopefully.

“No,” Albus scoffed.

“I’ll pay you.”

“Not your babysitter.”

“She’s your sister, too!”

“Yeah, well I’m not the one throwing the damn party that she’s going to need supervision at!”

“Look, I can’t very well prevent Gryffindors from coming if it’s happening there, can I?” 

Albus knew he was right. In fact, it probably didn’t matter where he held the party – Lily and her third year friends would find a way to be there.

“Here’s a novel idea: what if you _don’t_ get drunk off your arse and keep an eye on her yourself?”

“I’m not planning on getting drunk off my arse,” James said, hurt.

“Then why’d you smuggle in so much alcohol?” Albus countered.

James frowned. “For the _people_ , Al, the _people_. It’s what any good host would do.” 

“So why can’t you watch her yourself?”

“I’m the _host_! I’ll have... hostly things to attend to!” He gestured to the air around him as though Albus should be able to see all of his responsibilities there.

Albus raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t realize ditching the scene halfway into the night to shag your girlfriend counted as ‘hostly,’ but maybe I’ll consider throwing more parties in the future,” he said coolly.

James’s silence confirmed his guess. It was also a mark of how desperately James wanted his help that he didn’t have a comment to offer about Albus’s obvious lack of a girlfriend to shag at these hypothetical parties. 

He changed tactics. “Please? Pretty please? With a Shock-o-Choc on top?” He stuck out his lower lip and tilted his head sadly. “You won’t have to talk to anyone.”

Albus shook his head. 

“You can have all the Butterbeer you want!”

He pursed his lips and shook his head again. 

“You can... borrow my Invisibility Cloak for an evening?” James finished in a high voice, as though the offer was physically paining him to voice.

“A week. _And_ you’re paying me. And I want the Butterbeer, too.” he said. “And I’m not talking to anyone, least of all a room full of lousy, loud Gryffindors.”

“Thanks,” James said dryly, “for being so cooperative.”

“No problem,” Albus replied with a smirk. 

\---

When Albus walked into the Gryffindor Common Room at half past seven, he was hit by an instant wave of red. It was covered from floor to ceiling in red streamers, lights, and balloons (not to mention all of the usual scarlet decor). People of all years and houses were crammed inside, lounging in the armchairs, laughing, and drinking.

Albus claimed a quieter chair in the corner by a window and propped his feet up on the table beside it. He located Lily chatting animatedly with two of her friends on the opposite side of the room. She looked perfectly fine, so Albus drew out a couple of Butterbeers he’d gotten from James and made himself comfortable. Two more check-ups on Lily (whose hair was now lightly singed from Exploding Snap) later, Albus was growing bored. 

He heard her before he saw her. 

“Yep! He’s my date. Isn’t that right, Scorpius?” Rose’s voice sounded loud and bold over the roar of the party. 

In hindsight it should have been obvious that this was where she would take Scorpius. 

Albus spun around and watched her strut into the common room with Scorpius on her arm. His initial burning reaction of anger toward Rose quickly faded to the back of his mind when he saw Scorpius. He looked _good_. Really good. _Exceptionally_  good. There were few occasions for dressing smartly at Hogwarts and Albus felt, personally, that each one of them was an utter blessing. He would never complain about seeing Scorpius in Muggle clothing. 

He was wearing grey trousers and a dark blue jumper, which wasn’t anything spectacular in itself, really. It was that Scorpius simply wore them so _well_. Albus glanced around the room and was surprised to see that no one else was staring. Did they not see him?

His light hair was casually tousled, but unlike Albus’s it looked deliberate. His cheeks had a lovely pink tint blossoming over them (Albus couldn’t decide whether this was due to the heat of the common room or the tight hold Rose had on his arm). And he was nervously (but endearingly) fidgeting with the neck of his jumper. Albus had to make a conscious effort not to run at him. Instead he grabbed a couple glasses of punch and some Jelly Slugs from the snack table, and made his way back to his place by the window.

An hour or so later Albus heard someone shout over the crowd.

“Where are you going?” 

“For a walk!” Rose yelled back, with Scorpius at her hip.

“Oh! A  _walk_. Got it,” her friend said loftily. “You two have fun then!” she giggled.

Albus’s stomach clenched. He might not have gone on a _walk_  with anyone before but he knew what that meant. Image after image of Scorpius snogging Rose heatedly in a broom cupboard swarmed his mind mercilessly. He felt a hideous bubble of jealousy well up inside him. He jumped up in the search for a distraction and found himself heading to get more Slugs and punch. 

The next hour saw Albus alternating between rushing the snacks table and staring moodily at the wall. He’d gladly have given his wand if it would make the constant flood of thoughts and questions and images about what Scorpius and Rose were doing stop. Every time he closed his eyes he saw them together: sneaking through the corridors, laughing in the Great Hall, kissing in the library.

Albus stood abruptly and banged clumsily into the table. Would Scorpius even be his best friend now? Or would Rose steal that from him, too? She was far cleverer. She could actually interest Scorpius intellectually. And she was popular. Why would he want to be seen with Albus now when he could be seen with Rose? What did Albus have to offer to him?! What did Albus have to offer to anyone?!

Albus heard a faint shattering sound and looked down to see his glass in pieces at his feet.

“Oi! Drink it, don’t drop it, mate!” James called across the room. “We’ve a limited supply currently and- Al? Abus?”

James sprinted over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. Albus didn’t move. He was standing in the middle of the Common Room, but he didn’t entirely remember how he got there. He stared at the shattered glass. It swayed slightly back and forth - or was that him? Then suddenly it vanished. Poof! Albus looked around wildly for it. He must have kicked it somewhere. James grabbed him by both shoulders; the glass was miraculously in his left hand, repaired.

“Albus. Albus, look at me.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and then opened them. He tried to focus on James’s face but it wouldn’t hold still. 

“Have you been drinking?” James asked, worried.

“Just a c-couple of Butterbeers. And punch. _Loads_ of punch. Punch was good. And Slugs. Slugs were _really_  good. Are there more Slugs?” 

“You’ve been drinking the punch?! Al, it’s _punch_! It’s full of alcohol! Have you _been_ to a party before?!”

Albus blinked. “S’not juice?” 

James looked pained. “No,” he said. “Well I’m sure there’s _some_  juice in there... somewhere.”

“Oh,” said Albus. “Whoops.”

“Yeah, ‘whoops’ indeed.” James put the glass down. “Merlin’s sake, you’re plastered. Let’s get you up to a bed.” He threw Albus’s arm around his shoulders and walked him towards the dormitory stairs. After a moment of lagging, Albus’s brain caught up with him. 

“I live... not here.”

“Well I don’t have loads of confidence in your navigation of moving staircases at the moment, so you’re staying here – sorry.” They climbed the stairs to the seventh years’ dormitory, and James directed him to one of the beds. “Take Breccan’s. No one’s supposed to come up here tonight.”

It took Albus a moment to piece together exactly _why_  no one would be coming into James’s dorm tonight. 

“Oh yeah. Sorry,” he said as a twinge of guilt hit him. 

“It’s fine. Now I can look after Lily.” He actually sounded surprisingly fine, too. Albus wondered if he was simply much better than him at concealing his feelings. 

James helped Albus down onto the bed adjacent to his, then rummaged quickly through his trunk. He returned with a small glass bottle in hand and warmed it with a spell. 

“Drink up.” Albus eyed him uncertainly. “It’s an Anti-Sick Potion. So you don’t vomit all over the place in a couple of hours,” he said. “Or minutes,” he amended.

Albus chugged the contents of the bottle and slowly felt the nausea lift away. He was becoming far less drunk, too. His thoughts gradually sharpened and his mind returned to its normal state as the potion took its full effect. Breccan’s clock told him it was just past eleven. _Merlin_ , he’d gotten sloshed fast. 

“Thanks. ‘Preciate it.” Albus said, raising the bottle slightly. He hoped now that he wasn’t about to choke on his vomit James might feel like leaving soon.

“Care to tell me why you nearly drank your weight in liquor tonight?”

“Didn’t try to... I didn’t mean to get... it just happened. It’s not like I  _knew_ what I was drinking!” Albus said, anger rising in his voice.

“Okay, okay,” James said with his hands raised in defense, “Suppose you really didn’t know what you were doing.” His eyes narrowed. “But you didn’t stop after it’d started affecting you...” He hesitated for a moment. “Al, are you okay?”

“There’s nothing wrong with my brain just because I didn’t realize--”

“No, no, I don’t mean like that. I mean like... you know... _emotionally_. Emotionally are you okay?”

“Yes,” Albus said bitingly. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I dunno! You just seem... a bit... down. But if you’re sure you’re fine...”

Embarrassment overtook Albus at once. He must really look pitiable. There was a party going on down there and James was up here asking about his feelings. _James_. The fact that _James_  recognized something was wrong told him how blatantly he must be advertising his sorrow.  

Albus sighed. “M’not,” he admitted with a shake of his head. “Fine, that is,” he added to the floorboards in a mumble. “I’m not fine.”

He let Scorpius claw his way to the front of his mind again and instantly regretted it. Where was he now? Where had he and Rose gone off to? Scorpius certainly wasn’t sitting in his brother’s dormitory drinking Anti-Sick Potion and trying not to cry in front of him, that was for sure. 

The back of his eyes were stinging sharply. He would _not_  cry in front of James. He would _not_.  He dug his nails deep into his palms and blinked back the tears. 

“Is it...” James began uncertainly, “is it bullies again?” 

Albus didn’t react.

“Oh, or - or Valentine’s Day?” James wondered. “Loads of people don’t have dates – it’s no big deal! That’s what the party’s for!” 

Albus’s jaw clenched, and he squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Really, Al, listen!” James laughed. “It doesn’t matter! It’s just a silly holiday people like to make a big deal out of.”

Albus’s whole body was tense. He didn’t care about not having a date. He cared about _Scorpius_ having one. And he _hated_ that he cared about that. He was upset that he couldn't make himself be more supportive of his best mate because he had feelings for him. Really, really _intense_ feelings. Overwhelming feelings that he didn’t have a clue what to do with. 

He was upset that he liked Scorpius. Things would be so much easier if he simply didn’t! He wouldn’t hurt all of the time, for one. And he wouldn’t yet have to come to terms with the fact that not only was he Harry Potter’s _Slytherin_ son, but he was Harry Potter’s _gay_  Slytherin son. Not that he was ashamed, but he had a pretty good idea in his head of what the press would write when this information reached them. He didn’t _want_  all of these feelings. He wished he could simply switch them off. Or box them up and shove them under his bed to be forgotten. 

He wished he could move on and feel this way about someone – anyone – else. It would all be so much simpler. Yet a part of him knew that wasn’t true. He didn’t _really_ want his feelings for Scorpius to fade away. The simple fact was that he loved loving him. And that’s really what it was, wasn’t it? Love. There was no point in denying or diminishing it now. He loved him.

“That’s not it,” he said quietly. Once again his sorrow threatened to overflow. This time he let it. 

Tears trailed down his face, which he was sure was beet red by now. He nearly always turned red when he got worked up. He managed a few shaky breaths through his nose before his emotion burst out of him, and he collapsed into heavy tears.

“Fuck, Al.” James scrambled over to sit beside him and threw his arm around his shoulders. He pulled Albus towards him and held him against his chest. “Fuck.”

Albus was sobbing now. Big, heaving, ugly sobs that were only slightly muffled by the light fabric of James’s shirt. He had completely lost control. All of his pain and jealousy and self-loathing flooded out of him without his consent. His shoulders wracked and he breathed in horrible, stuttering gasps. James held him a little tighter and rubbed soothing circles into his back. 

Albus couldn’t say how long they sat like this, Albus blubbering into his brother’s arms, while James endlessly repeated, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it out. It’s okay. _”_  It felt like several hours, but was more likely only several minutes. When his sobs finally ran dry, he was exhausted. 

He held onto James for a bit longer before deciding if he was to preserve any of his dignity he needed to sit up again. “M’sorry,” he whispered, again to the floorboards.

“It’s fine. Al, _really_ , it’s fine.” James said seriously. “Just – breathe, okay? Breathe.” 

Albus nodded. He focused on his breathing and tried to regulate it. He no longer felt full to bursting with sorrow or foul emotion. He was hollow. Empty. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, unable to look James in the eye.

“Do you… want to talk about it?” 

“Can’t,” Albus said firmly with a small shake of his head.

“All right,” James said. “Are you  _sure_?” he pried once more. 

“Not – not yet. Okay?” Albus asked in a small voice, wondering whether he would ever actually come out to his brother. If he would ever admit to someone else that he had feelings for Scorpius. 

“Okay, yeah, whenever you’re ready. Take your time,” James nodded. He looked at Albus, waiting patiently. 

“Er, no, James. I meant ‘not yet’ as in ‘possibly several years.’” 

“Oh.” He was quiet for a moment. Albus had a feeling he was processing quite a lot. “So then... you’re just going to be sad... for _years_?” James asked, as though the idea of long-term unhappiness was unfathomable. “That sounds a bit... unhealthy.”

“Probably is, yeah,” Albus shrugged and picked at his cuticles. “But it’ll be okay. I’ll manage.”

“I don’t like seeing you sad, Al.” 

He almost could’ve laughed. James didn’t like seeing him sad? Where was _this_ for the last four years? Albus suddenly wondered if James had ever actually realized that he had been miserable all that time. Whether he’d even understood the extent of his unhappiness. Judging by the worried look on his face, he thought this sort of thing was a first. 

“Thanks for the concern, but really, I’ll be okay... Or I’ll learn to be. You should go back to the party.” 

“No, no, I’m staying with you,” James said resolutely. 

“Please go back.” And after a look at James’s wounded expression he added, “I want you to have fun. Plus our snotty-nosed little sister is down there getting herself into who knows what.”

“Okay,” he said a bit uncertainly. “But if you need anything you’ll let me know. Promise?”

“Promise.”

James ruffled Albus’s hair lightly and adjusted his shirt collar in the back for him before disappearing through the doorway. 

Albus lay back and stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. He tried yet again to cast his mind far away from Scorpius. Or Rose. But especially not Scorpius _and_ Rose. But yet again, it ended up being all he could think about. 

Another horrible thought plagued him, and he was suddenly very grateful to be sleeping in the Gryffindor dormitory tonight in ignorance, lest he walk into the Slytherin dormitory and stumble upon the two of them. 

He wondered whether Scorpius had done any of the romantic things with Rose he’d spent the last five years talking about doing. He wondered whether he’d kissed her hand, or placed a flower in her hair, or strolled with her in the moonlight.

In his mind’s eye Albus slowly started to replace Rose with himself and let his imagination take over. He thought about all of the possibilities. From study dates in the library, to lying on the banks of the lake on a summer afternoon, to what Scorpius’s hand might feel like in his, to what Scorpius’s _mouth_  might—

“Albus?”

Albus’s eyes shot open. He sat bolt upright, frowning at the figure in the doorway. 

“ _Scorpius_? What are you doing here?”

“Me? What’re _you_  doing here? In the Gryffindor Dormitory? I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

“Nothing. Party was getting boring, got sleepy. James said I could come up here.” He dropped Scorpius’s gaze as he said this, and found a thread on the duvet to pick at. “Where’s Rose? Where did you two run off to?” Albus blurted out before he could stop himself. 

“We went for a walk,” he said. “Well, not  _just_ a walk-”

“I don’t want to hear about it,” Albus said harshly. “She’s my cousin,” he added.

“Okay. Sorry.” He fiddled with the hem of his jumper. “Do you think,” he began uncertainly. “Do you think we could talk? Somewhere private?”

Albus glanced around the empty room slowly, as though a half a dozen people might’ve materialized without his knowing. He opened his mouth in question but Scorpius cut him off.

“Somewhere _quieter_. And without the risk of drunk Gryffindors stumbling in.”

Albus shrugged and tried to look calm. He wasn’t sure what this was about but Scorpius seemed incredibly strained and it was worrying him. “Yeah, ‘course.”

“You might... well you know I don’t want to encourage you to _steal_  from him – I mean I suppose it’s not actually stealing if we give it back – but it _is_  dishonest and we _really_ should ask his permission first... but you might want to grab James’s Cloak.”

Scorpius’s moral conflict was slightly amusing to him. He rummaged through James’s trunk for the Invisibility Cloak and stuffed it under his shirt. If it was anyone but James, Albus might’ve felt differently. And anyways, he reckoned James did owe him the Cloak for a few days (he _had_ watched Lily some.) He pushed his resurfacing guilt away and followed Scorpius out of the dorm. 

Scorpius threw the Cloak over them and they set off in a hunched walk. Albus’s heart pounded. What did Scorpius want to talk to him about? Was something wrong? Had Rose said something awful to him? Albus vowed he would curse her into oblivion if she’d done whatever it was that was causing Scorpius to look like this. He let Scorpius guide them around the castle for a bit, lost deep in thought, before his curiosity got the better of him. 

“Where are we going?” he asked finally.

Scorpius hesitated. “I was thinking the Astronomy Tower. It’s sort of our place, y’know? And it’s quiet.”

“It’s freezing.”

Scorpius shook his head. “It needs to be there. It’s the only place I know I can do this.”

They climbed their way to the top of the tower and pulled the Cloak off, slightly out of breath. Albus leaned over the edge and looked out into the black night. The sky was cloudless, and the sea of stars above him was shimmering back in the slow waters of the lake below him. He hugged his arms to himself. It was colder than he’d expected. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, trying to keep the worry out of his voice. 

Scorpius was stood by the staircase, eyes fixed on his shoes and still clutching the Cloak to his chest. He took a deep breath.

“Rose and I didn’t just go for a walk-” he began quietly. 

“No, no, Scorpius, _please_! I don’t want to know about that. I don’t care!”

Scorpius shook his head slowly and tilted his face to the sky. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to himself. Albus’s stomach plummeted. There were tears shining in Scorpius’s eyes. “I can’t do this.” His voice was quivering. Albus didn’t think twice before running to him.

“What? What is there to be sorry about? What can’t you do?” Albus asked, searching Scorpius’s face for a clue.

Scorpius hesitated for a moment and several tears escaped down his cheeks. He took another shaky breath. “I-I’m letting my parents down right now,” he said in a small voice. “I’m letting my mum down.” 

“No! No, you could never _possibly_  -”

“Albus, I’m gay.”

Albus fell silent for a moment as he processed this. Part of him was shocked and part of him was elated. However, at that moment, an entirely different emotion was overtaking him and driving all his thoughts.

“ _So_?” he asked incredulously. “You think you’re somehow letting your parents down because of _that_?! You think you’re any less because of that?! Scorpius, that’s _insane_. That doesn’t change anything! Why on _earth_ would you think that?!” His cheeks were on fire again as he worked himself up into a shout. He paced in circles and tried to make sense to himself how Scorpius could believe something like that. After a moment, he found his voice again.

“Scorpius, I swear to you, and you had better believe me when I say this: you are the kindest, the cleverest, the funniest, most _incredible_  person I’ve ever met. You know more about History of Magic than Professor Binns! You taught yourself to cast a nonverbal spell last week!” Albus was gesturing wildly now. “I MEAN, FOR MERLIN’S SAKE, YOU TALK TO THE _BLOODY_ _LAKE FISH_ THROUGH THE GLASS IN THE DORMITORY BECAUSE YOUR HEART IS SO EFFING PURE.”

“Albus, I-”

“NO, I’M NOT _FUCKING_ FINISHED. YOU FOLD DOWN THE PAGES OF THE _DAILY PROPHET_ YOU THINK I MIGHT LIKE. YOU STAY UP ALL NIGHT WITH ME TO HELP ME FINISH MY HOMEWORK. YOU’VE SAVED THE _ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD_ \- ”

“Well to be fair, I was part of the reason it needed saving in the first...” he trailed off with a look at Albus’s face. “Okay – no – sorry. You’re right – I saved the world – sorry.”

“AND YOU’RE MY _BEST_ FRIEND AND IF YOU THINK FOR EVEN A _SECOND_  THAT I’M GOING TO LET YOU STAND HERE AND SAY SOMETHING AS - AS  _ABSURD_ AS ‘ _I’ve let my mum down because I’m gay_ ,” THEN-”

“Okay!” he interjected. “Okay! I get it. You sort of think I’m great,” he said with a small smile. “But as far as words of comfort go… these are getting a bit shouty.”

“Of course I do. Glad that’s been understood. And sorry,” he said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “but you can’t go saying tripe like that and not expect me to get worked up a bit.”

“Well, I appreciate that – I really do – but that’s not what I meant! My mum wouldn’t be disappointed because of that, she be disappointed because I’ve been hiding who I am. She taught me to embrace myself and never let labels or the opinions of others get to me. I think she’d be sad to know I’ve been cowardly and keeping secrets,” he said, bowing his head.

“Oh,” said Albus quietly.

Scorpius picked at the lint on his jumper. A heavy silence fell as Albus tried to formulate a response. Scorpius took a deep breath and cleared his throat. He wrapped his arms around himself and fixed an unseeing gaze on the stone floor.

“Rose and I didn’t just go for a walk,” he began suddenly and slowly. “We went to a classroom and we talked. About a lot of things. Mostly me,” he paused. “A little about you. She- she said she only agreed to go out with me because it would prove something. She had this crazy idea that I was using my infatuation-” 

“Obsession,” Albus mumbled. 

“--alright ‘obsession’ to avoid admitting some...  _things_  to myself. And- and to others, too. And, she was right.”

A crashing wave of relief hit Albus as the world started to make sense again. Of _course_ Rose had had ulterior motives for going out with Scorpius. That actually made complete sense. He was hanging on Scorpius’s every word now. 

“I’ve been pursuing Rose with absolutely no expectation that she’d ever say yes. Popular, clever, athletic – she made sense to go after. No one would question it. She was safe to- to hide the feelings I have for someone else behind, see? Only... she apparently cottoned on to the charade recently and quickly realized the easiest way to get me to leave her alone was actually to go out with me. Because then I’d be forced to admit I didn’t really want to date her.” 

“The feelings you have for someone else?” Albus repeated slowly. His heart was pounding out of his chest. He barely dared to let himself entertain all the possibilities behind Scorpius’s statement. 

“Right... that’s the ‘keeping secrets’ bit,” Scorpius answered quietly.

Albus waited for him to continue. Scorpius picked furiously at his cuticles and tucked his hair behind his ear once, twice, three times, before finally falling still. He swallowed and took a small step towards Albus and looked at him. Albus’s heart rate tripled. He was quite sure that much cardiac acceleration wasn’t healthy. Scorpius’s white-blonde hair kept catching and scattering the moonlight, and Albus thought his light eyes were surely reflecting all the starlight in the night sky. 

Scorpius took Albus’s left hand in his right. It was a welcome warmth in the chilly February air. His thumb stroked the back of Albus’s hand. Albus’s brain was in overdrive trying to take in everything that was happening. Scorpius leaned in a bit closer, closer than was justifiable. Albus held his breath.

“I am... Scorpius the Dreadless,” he said in an unsteady voice.

“What?” 

“It’s a thing I’m trying. Just go with it.”

“...Okay...”

“I am... Malfoy the Unanxious.” He tossed the Cloak to the ground and took Albus’s other hand in his. Albus’s heart thudded in his ears. He was slightly worried he might not be able to hear what Scorpius said next despite the fact that he was speaking unusually slowly and deliberately.   

“And I’m trying to be brave but this is quite _possibly_ the scariest thing I’ve ever done,” he whispered, looking down at their joined hands. “And that includes living in the Voldemort hell I resurrected.” He paused. “Hang on. Actually, no it doesn’t. That was _far_ , far scarier. So much scarier.” He gave a hysterical laugh. “I don’t know what made me say that! I think I was getting a little dramatic. This _is_ scary, believe you me, but it is _undoubtedly_ more terrifying living in a world where you don’t even  _exist_ than it is to tell you I love you. I can’t believe I thought this was worse. It’s not. I misspoke. At least you exist now-”

“You what?”

Scorpius blinked. “I resurrected hell.”

“No, after that.”

“…I misspoke?”

“ _No_ , a little before that.”

“I... _oh_.” His eyes widened in realization. 

“Yeah, that one.”

“Right... That one.” He was bright red. Flaming red. Almost  _Weasley_  red. And Albus was pretty certain he looked exactly the same. “Yes. Well... I guess the cat’s among the pixies now,” he laughed nervously. 

“So that’s the secret you’ve been keeping?” Albus asked carefully.

“ _Was_ keeping. I mean, it’s not really a secret anym--”

Albus let go of Scorpius’s hands and threw his arms around his neck, kissing him hard on the mouth. It took Scorpius a half-second to unfreeze before he responded by wrapping his arms around Albus’s waist and lifting him to his toes.

Scorpius was warm and soft against his mouth. He felt the heat from his lips spread through his whole body. He cautiously threaded his hand up through Scorpius’s hair while the other one travelled along his jaw. Scorpius kissed him deeper, and then deeper still, pressing them tightly against each other in their embrace, as though physical distance could cause pain. 

Albus was flying. This was infinitely better than any dream. His senses broke down and he went deaf to the world. All he could register was the pressure of Scorpius’s mouth against his, the silkiness of Scorpius’s hair, the smell of Scorpius as he kissed him into madness. And he _was_ going mad, he realized, as he prioritized maintaining their kiss over breathing. But who needed air anyways? Not Albus. Not when he had Scorpius’s lips and hands and _love_. 

Another minute passed before he relinquished his hold on Scorpius’s hair and pulled away, chest heaving as he finally got oxygen back to his brain.

“And... how do you feel about me?” Scorpius asked, attempting to sound as though he was merely inquiring about Albus’s opinion on wallpaper. 

Albus fought back a laugh and grinned as the feeling he’d been containing for months – years, really – finally tumbled out of him in words: “I love you. You utter, _utter_ dork.”

He only got to glimpse the smile that had broken across Scorpius’s face for a fraction of a second before Scorpius had leaned in and begun kissing him over and over and _over_ again.

“And – _I_ – love – _you!”_ he said, punctuating each word with yet another kiss. “So – damn – much.” He threw his arms around Albus and pulled him into a tight hug. Albus rested his chin on Scorpius’s shoulder and hugged him back just as fiercely with the arm that wasn’t currently pinned between their chests. 

“So damn much,” Scorpius muttered again into Albus’s hair.

The iciness of the air became extremely apparent after they broke apart. Albus shivered violently. He only now realized that Scorpius was mad to bring them here. It was _freezing_!

Scorpius was looking at the sky, apparently unaffected. “S-scorpius, the stars are b-beautiful, but h-how are you not f-freezing up here?” he demanded.

“I’m too happy to be cold,” he said simply. 

“Well I’m h-happy t-too, but that d-doesn’t mean I still c-can’t get hypothermia.” He crossed his arms and hunched his back against the wind.

Scorpius snapped out of his trance and hastened to wrap the Cloak around Albus. Albus smiled in thanks and then threw it over _both_ of their shoulders. Together they descended the tower and traipsed across the castle, holding onto each other for warmth and balance. 

Halfway back to their dormitory, an idea struck Albus. 

“C’mon,” he urged, “this way.”

\---

“More than... Pepper Imps?”

“Yes!”

“More than... Bathilda Bagshot?”

“Of course!”

“More than... books?”

“Well now, ‘books’ is a very broad category, Albus...” He frowned. Scorpius laughed. He tapped the end of Albus’s nose. “ _Yes_. Without a doubt, yes. I love you more than books.”

Albus beamed. 

He lay back against the wooden tabletop and scanned the starry night above them until he found Scorpius in the sky. His Scorpius was currently lying shoulder-to-shoulder with him in the darkness on the Slytherin house table in the Great Hall, at well past two in the morning.

Albus had never seen the Enchanted Ceiling like this before. It was undoubtedly more extraordinary than it had ever been during the day, when all of the candles and torches were lit and diluted the darkness. There were even a couple of decorative hearts still floating through the now cloudless sky, shimmering in the starlight. 

He tilted his head back awkwardly to look at Scorpius. His eyes were closed but a small smile played on his lips. Albus didn’t think this smile had left since he’d first kissed him earlier that night. And he would love nothing more than to see it stay there forever.

He silently rolled to his side. With his head propped up on his hand, he watched Scorpius’s chest rise and fall peacefully. Up and down, up and down. In and out, in and out. Albus gradually synchronized his breathing in time with it. He wanted to reach out and lay his hand on his chest. To feel the beat of Scorpius’s warm heart. To see if he could synchronize his _heart_  with Scorpius’s as well. He had one hand on his own chest and the other suspended just above Scorpius’s when he heard his voice.

“What are you doing?” Scorpius whispered.

“Nothing,” Albus said, hastily pulling his hand away, thankful for the dim light to hide his blush.

Scorpius didn’t reply. He studied Albus’s face carefully. Then he slowly raised a hand to place over Albus’s heart and brought Albus’s palm to rest on his. _Thump. Thump, thump, thump. Thump, thump_. Albus tried to concentrate on regulating his pulse in time with Scorpius’s, but it kept hammering away.

“Can you feel that?” Scorpius asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Albus breathed back.

He locked eyes with Scorpius in the semi-darkness. Slowly, he tilted his head towards him and leaned in. Scorpius’s eyes were fixed on Albus’s mouth until they fluttered shut at the contact of their lips. 

Albus kissed him, slowly and deliberately. He took this extra time to revel in every feeling, every change of pressure, every breath. His hands rested on the sides of Scorpius’s face while Scorpius’s applied a steady pressure to the back of his neck, pulling him down closer. One of his legs slipped between Scorpius’s and he ran his sock-covered foot along the inside of his calf. 

He wasn’t sure what gave him the idea (or the courage), but he boldly planted a knee on either side of Scorpius, straddling his hips. He leaned in again; Scorpius propped himself up on his elbows and met him halfway. Albus ran his hands from Scorpius’s hair, to his neck, to his jaw, and they were just about to snake their way up his jumper when Scorpius pulled back abruptly.

He gently pushed Albus’s shoulders to the side until Albus was lying next to him once again.  _Shit, shit, shit, shit,_ Albus berated himself. _Too soon, too soon, too soon_. Why would he try that? What was he thinking? They’d only kissed for the first time a few hours ago, and he was already trying to get under his clothes? And now he’d freaked Scorpius out.

“Can I do that?” Scorpius asked from above him breathlessly. 

“What?” Albus blinked.

“You know... what you were doing. It looked... _funandniceandgood,”_  he said quickly. “I want to kiss you like that.”

“What?” Albus repeated. He blinked again. “Okay,” he said, staring at Scorpius uncomprehendingly.

Scorpius nervously positioned his leg on the other side of Albus’s hips as Albus had done to him. “Okay,” he announced unnecessarily, “here I go.”

And he was kissing him again. The self-doubt and uncertainty faded from Albus’s chest as his hands first found Scorpius’s shoulders, then trailed over his back, then came to rest on his bum.

Any hesitation or guilt he previously had was struck down by Scorpius’s fingertips pulling at the hem of Albus’s shirt. Scorpius slid his hands underneath it and trailed them up Albus’s sides. He shivered slightly. So long as Scorpius had his hands on him, he reckoned, the world could probably burn to the ground and he would be none the wiser.

He moved his hands to the end of Scorpius’s jumper, bunching it up as he ran them along Scorpius’s middle. His heart stumbled over itself: Scorpius was lightly trying to coax his mouth open and Albus was more than happy to oblige. He felt a burning heat surge through his body as he tasted the entirety of Scorpius’s mouth. An involuntary noise escaped him into their burning, open-mouthed kiss.

He arched his hips up just slightly to meet Scorpius’s and immediately froze. His eyes shot open as he realized what he was doing. He dropped his hands from Scorpius’s waist, leaving his jumper bunched awkwardly and his abdomen exposed. A wave of embarrassment flooded through him and he buried his face in his hands. 

“I’m so, so sorry,” he groaned. “I’m such a – _such_ a –,” 

Scorpius laughed down at him and adjusted his jumper. “You’re not. You’re just... really excited. Okay, _that_  was poor word choice.” He got off Albus and lay beside him again. After a couple seconds, he smiled over at him. “It’s entirely okay, though. I am too. Excited, I mean. In... multiple senses of the word. Most of senses actually. Probably all of them. Which I am more than enthusiastic about, you should know. Just maybe not on our first date.” He paused. “Am I making this more awkward?”

Albus grinned. “No, you’re fine,” he assured. “Actually, maybe do stop talking about it for now.”

“Right-o. Won’t discuss it further. It’s not even a thought. Already long forgotten. What are we talking about again?” 

“No idea.”

They both burst into laughter that echoed its way across the empty hall. Scorpius scooted up against Albus and rested his head on his chest. Albus’s heart fluttered again (it was a bit worrisome how often it was doing that lately). He stroked the hair behind Scorpius’s ear and stared up at the swirl of stars in the ceiling. 

“ _Is_ this our first date?” Albus asked, genuinely curious.

“I don’t know. Yeah? It’s romantic, even though it wasn’t exactly planned. I mean... We’re alone... Surrounded by the stars...” 

“Lying on a table... Where we’ll be eating breakfast tomorrow...” he teased. 

“It was _your_  idea!” Scorpius said indignantly. 

He laughed. “I know, I know.” 

“I guess I’ll try to make our second date a bit more orthodox for you, then,” said Scorpius.

“Nah,” said Albus with a smile, “I like this better, actually.” He moved his hand from Scorpius’s hair to his hand. “There’s going to be a second date?” he asked.

“Are you _mad? Of course there’s-”_ Scorpius broke off as he looked up at him. “Okay, you’re joking. Good.” He smiled and traced the lines of Albus’s thumb. “There’s _obviously_ going to be a second date. And a third. And a fourth. And a fifth. And a sixth. And a-”

“All right, all right, I get it: you want to date me,” he said, laughing. “So just how many dates are we going to have exactly?”

Scorpius considered this for a moment. “I don’t know... how many days does the average wizard have in their lifespan? That many.”

Albus’s heart leapt to his throat. He blinked more rapidly than was usual. Scorpius might not have meant exactly what he was saying, but the implication of what spending every day of their lives together would mean was not lost on him.

“So,” he said squeezing Scorpius a little tighter to him. “Only one a day?” he joked.

“Well,” Scorpius muttered sleepily into his chest. “Maybe there could be more.” He yawned. “Or we could just have one big, long date. From now ‘til forever.” 

Albus found himself yawning too. He kissed the top of Scorpius’s head. “Sounds good to me. From now ‘til forever,” he repeated. 

Albus’s eyes started to feel heavy with sleepiness. His hand gradually stilled its light stroking of Scorpius’s back. He heard a tiny “pop!” of two shimmery Valentine’s Day hearts colliding directly above him in the night sky, but by the time the swirls of glitter and rose petals had fallen down to them, he was fast asleep. 


End file.
